Secrets
by Gracie-Joy
Summary: Darcy is new in town and he and Lizzy quickly become friends after an initial false start in their impressions of each other. But Lizzy is never really certain who he is. Why does he keep disappearing? What is he hiding in that big house of his across the street and why won't he let anyone in? Will he be able to confide in Lizzy before it tears their friendship, or more, apart?
1. Chapter 1

**Secrets**

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot**

"Lizzie, we're going to be late!" Jane called to her sister, her long white delicate hands anxiously gripping the rosewood banister. Jane Bennet was often described as the town beauty, the belle of the ball, the loveliest creature; Mrs Bennet's treasure. With her long white neck held elegantly like a swans, slim figure with a small waist and slender hips, no one dared disagree with any of the former descriptions. Lizzie often teased her sister that it was her long legs and slim figure that had over ordered the knights in shining armour and not her sweet nature and shy conversation held through deep blue eyes and thick, long lashes. Perfection was the only word for Jane Bennet.  
And perfection also seeped into Jane's obsession with time. Jane Bennet was never late, except of course when accompanied with her younger, much wilder sister, Lizzie.  
"One is never late! Everyone else is simply early!" Lizzie declared and slid down the banister theatrically with one arm raised in the air, her nose turned into the air with pompous amusement. As her feet reached the ground with a heavy thump, her lightly freckled nose scrunched up in contemplation.  
"Or is it simply, fashionably late? You know, I've never understood that term. How is it _fashionable_ to be late? It's just plain rude if it can be helped," she said as though it was the most important philosophy in the entire world and certainly ignoring the fact that she herself was late. Jane sighed and fixed Lizzie's curls once more.  
"You shouldn't slide down the banister. You'll ruin your dress," she scolded lightly. Lizzie scowled and looked down at her attire. A simple sleeveless black dress that molded to her waist and hips before falling into a flowing skirt that cut off two inches above her knees.  
"I don't know why I had to wear a dress," she groaned. "Charlotte said she didn't care, as long as I didn't leave her alone at her own Christmas party. I was going to go you know! It's not my fault that last year I forgot." She blinked her wide eyes innocently and Jane giggled while straightening Lizzie's skirt.  
"We all know that you didn't forget, Lizzie. We found you wrapped up in your blankie reading T.S Eliot. Honestly, I think Charlotte was more offended than amused," Jane said. The girls shrugged on coats before braving the snowy outdoors. From the frosty glass panes in the door Lizzie watched the snowflakes fall delicately from the sky. Dancing. She always thought they looked like they were dancing, like tiny white ballerina's floating in a jewelry box.  
_"A cold coming we had of it,  
Just the worst time of the year  
For a journey, and such a long journey:  
The ways deep and the weather sharp,  
The very dead of winter_!**(1)**" Lizzie recited dramatically._  
"_Oh Jane! How could one dare leave the poetic enticements of T.S Eliot in venture of a party of cramped bodies and thumping music? You can't blame me," Lizzie grumbled and examined the mascara that framed her lively green eyes with dubious scrutiny. Jane squeezed in the mirror beside her and applied one last coat of lip gloss to her pink lips.  
"Lizzie, you love snow, parties and dancing. Admit it. You just wanted to avoid a certain somebody," Jane teased. Lizzie immediately jabbed her elbow into Jane's side, glaring ferociously. Truthfully she only managed to look like an angry kitten.  
"Well it's true!" Jane grumbled and rubbed her ribs with a small pout.  
"Collins is an idiot," she whispered harshly as if the name was spoken too loudly, the odious little man would suddenly appear.  
"Jane! Lizzie! Please take me with you!" Lydia cried desperately, falling to her knees, hands clasped together tightly. Lizzie rolled her eyes and tugged on her red and green scarf. The scarf her mother insisted she wore to remind her of the Christmas spirit. Lizzie thought it was the most ridiculous and hideous item of clothing she'd ever worn, but wore it with humility she did to save her poor mother's nerves.  
"Lydia, don't make a nuisance of yourself! This is Jane and Lizzie's party where they will find some lovely young gentlemen," another voice appeared in the doorway.  
"Mum, really? We're just going to a Christmas party that will have the same old boring guys we always hang out with," Lizzie said dryly. Mrs. Bennet immediately 'tut-tut'ed her daughter and began to fuss over straightening her eldest daughter's dress.  
"Jane, how do you bare it with such grace? You're a saint," Lizzie muttered darkly and tugged her scarf harder against her, the course material prickling the soft skin on her neck.  
"I don't know why I can't go," Lydia huffed with crossed arms. Her lips were in a small pout that was similar to that of a fish. Lizzie had always thought it look ridiculous on her and went to say so but was cut off by Mrs. Bennet tugging at her hair.  
"Mum! Stop it!" she stepped away from her mother's invasive fingers.  
"No, no! You hold still. You must be presentable. There are not going to be 'boring old guys' Lizzie. Have you not heard of our new neighbours?" She asked. Lizzie perked up considerably at the mention of new people. "There are two families this winter. Charles and Caroline Bingley, quite rich mind you and a Mr. Darcy! You must snatch them up before the other girls and leave us all to live a humble life in the lower side of Meryton! Mr. Bennet is not going to last forever you know!" Mrs. Bennet crowed.  
Lizzie winced at her mother's careless chatter. Her father had recently contracted Haemochromatosis, which had caused his liver to begin to fail. Slowly he was becoming weaker and weaker without a transplant of the vital organ. With his age in consideration, his name was continually pushed further down on the waiting list. Lizzie clung to her father as much as she could with the little time he had left amongst them.  
"We're going to be late," Lizzie cut off her mother's endless stream of chatter and tugged Jane into the cold night air, hearing Lydia's last pleas and their mother's last well wishes before the door creaked closed. "Phew. Look at the snow, Jane! Isn't it spectacular?" She spun in smooth circles even with the heels of her shoes plunging deep into the snow. Jane watched with cautious eyes as her daring sister leapt through the snow and across the slippery road, not quite sure how she never managed to fall and break one of her small limbs.  
"Marvelous! But do be careful!" She called with a fond laugh, watching Lizzie's curls spin around her faster and faster before she collided with a tall, dark form.  
"Oomph!" Lizzie exclaimed and quickly stumbled back from the strong hands that held her tightly. "I am terribly sorry sir…" her giggles began to cease as she met the eyes of the most gorgeous man she'd seen in her twenty years of life. He had a black beanie pulled down over his ears to stop the intrusive chill and dark curls had managed to stray from beneath his head covering. His lips twitched in amusement behind the billowing air blowing from them. Lizzie was sure she detected the signs of dimples on his cheeks and small creases at the corner of his blue eyes.  
"Don't slip," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers, that weren't related to the snow landing where her scarf had slipped down. The scarf…Lizzie's blush transformed into a furnace. She'd decided to appease her mother by wearing it only to literally run into the most attractive man she'd ever laid eyes on.  
"I won't," she tried to smile and decidedly widened the gap between their bodies. He nodded before slipping quietly around her and striding up the street and turning right.  
"Did he just turn into Charlotte's?" Jane giggled, looping her sister's arm though her own. Lizzie began to laugh and tugged her coat closer to her body.  
"I dare say he did. Only he should have known we were headed there. Who else would roam the streets at this time of night in falling snow on the twenty second of December?" Lizzie frowned stepping precariously on the ice-covered sidewalk. Jane beside her clung tighter as her shoes began to slip.  
Lizzie couldn't say she didn't admire the way Jane walked in heels two inches high and were the width of a toothpick, but she certainly couldn't say it was the brightest idea she'd ever had either.  
"Oh Lizzie, don't be silly. He probably didn't want to say anything just incase we weren't invited. He was simply sparing our feelings," Jane soothed. Of course Jane would, Lizzie thought wryly. She allowed her to quietly entertain those thoughts while her own mind galloped in circles trying to see past the oddness of it all. His lips had appeared as though they were struggling to contain a smile but those eyes. Well, those eyes she just could not read for the life of her.  
The Lucas' gate creaked softly in the cold and Lizzie had to give it a hefty shove to clear the snow that had gathered since they'd cleared the path last.  
"Oh you're probably right! Besides, who cares? He's just a guy anyway," Lizzie casually said though she couldn't properly dispel those haunting blue orbs from her mind's eye.  
"A very attractive one," Jane giggled elegantly. Yes, elegantly. Lizzie wasn't sure how a giggle could be described as 'elegant'. She'd always associated it was 'girlish' and 'gleeful', but Jane had once again defeated the laws of human nature and giggled _elegantly_.  
"Yes, Jane. But we are independent women who rely on no one but ourselves to live our lives, feel beautiful and have fun. Why should they impact us at all? Besides I need to finish my degree before focusing on _them,_" Lizzie said decidedly. In all honesty that was exactly how she felt about men. She didn't need them to bolster her existent. They weren't a necessity but simply an added bonus.  
"Don't let your mother hear that. You'll be on the market and you won't even know it," Charlotte sidled up slyly and planted an arm around each of the sisters waists in a familiar hug. Lizzie let out a laugh, throwing her head back in amusement.  
"I already _am_ on the market, Charlotte," Lizzie said and shrugged off her coat and scarf in the hot house. Colliding bodies had already heated the room to magnificent temperatures.  
"Charlotte, I thought you said you were cutting numbers this year?" Jane asked loudly over the thumping music, eyeing the men warily that had already singled her out for their future companion in life. Charlotte gave a guilty grin and threw her hands in the air.  
"You know I love a party!" she exclaimed, throwing in a small dance in time with the music pumping through her speakers. Lizzie frowned thoughtfully.  
"New speakers?" she asked. Charlotte nodded eagerly.  
"Yes! Amazing right? Dad bought them for me as an early Christmas present and, Jane dearest, I simply _had_ to invite everyone. Our new neighbours are here!" she whispered in a hushed voice, close to their ears. Lizzie rolled her eyes at Jane's perked interest.  
"Do introduce us! Mother will kill us if we come home without at least in introduction. Besides I'm dying to meet the new man of the neighbour-hood," Lizzie winked and Charlotte snorted obnoxiously.  
"Of course, Lizzie. This way though," she led the sisters by the hand through cramped, dancing bodies. As per usual Charlotte had installed her famous strobe lights and the colours danced and flashed sporadically.  
Out of the large lounge room, Charlotte led them to a quieter sitting room where people were casually standing around the alcohol, food and punch tables. The music still managed to crawl its way into the room but it was less compressing on the ears.  
"Guys, this is Jane and Lizzie Bennet, the girls I were telling you about. Jane, Lizzie, I'd like you to meet Charles Bingley, his sister Caroline. And this is William Darcy," Charlotte introduced them. Lizzie grinned and shook Charles' hand.  
"Charlie," he insisted. Jane blushed as he shook her hand and Lizzie was quickly impressed with his easy wit and ability to compliment people at every opportunity. His sister was another matter. Though they both shared grey eyes, a small smattering of freckles on their nose and thick auburn hair Caroline sent chills down her spine. Where Charlie's eyes were lively and full of fire and passion, Caroline's were hard and cold, like the ice that was stuck to the pavement outside.  
"A pleasure. Charlotte's told me so much about you," she murmured with a smile that Lizzie thought was sickly over-done.  
"Someone needs to eat a few more candy canes," Lizzie muttered to Charlotte. Charlotte choked on her drink and Lizzie had to whack her back to help it go down.  
The last one was a surprise to her though. William Darcy. She met his eye once and then let out an amused laugh.  
"William Darcy. It's lovely to finally know the name behind the face," she said shaking his hands with a light flush on her cheeks. They were large and warm with just the right amount of callous to them. He wasn't purely an office man but he certainly wasn't a labourer by any means she thought recognizing the designer jeans that sat comfortably on his hips.  
"Lizzie. You didn't slip?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Lizzie shook her curls with a smile.  
"She's too talented for that," Charlotte interrupted. "Have you two met before?  
"Briefly on the sidewalk," Darcy explained. Lizzie still wasn't sure whether she read amusement behind those clear blue eyes. She wished it was the first and he was simply shy but she couldn't be sure.  
"Jane-" Lizzie stopped midsentence and blinked at the empty space where her sister once stood. "I haven't even had anything to drink yet and I'm already imagining my sister is a pot-plant," Lizzie complained, eyeing Mrs. Lucas' prized indoor plant that sat only thirty centimeters away from where Jane had stood.  
"Charlie took her to get acquainted with the dance floor," Caroline explained coldly. Lizzie smiled and nodded in understanding.  
"Of course. How are you liking Meryton?" Lizzie asked taking a seat next to the unanimated Caroline. She was determined not to judge her before she had a chance to fully understand her perspective.  
"It's quite lovely once you get past the cows. Can you believe there is a _cow_ that lives right next to our house? Yes, a cow. I much prefer the city," She sniffed, reaching a perfectly manicured hand to pat her hair, and reassure herself that it was still perfectly aligned. Lizzie raised an eyebrow carefully and struggled to pull back the smile that was twitching at her lips.  
"_In the city where the colours run dry  
Or in the country where the colour green is applied  
In the city where there are polluting cars  
Or in the country where you can see the stars,__**(2)**_" Lizzie quoted. It was the only way she knew how to stray from the obscene path of immaturity she had promised her sister she would steer clear of but still allow her own perspective shine through.  
Caroline's eyebrows twitched a moment before she stood, smoothed her short, cream skirt till the wrinkles had faded.  
"Oh I agree, Eliza. The city is much more preferable. I think I'll find some more punch," she smiled plastically and clicked away in her heels.  
"_In respect of itself, it is a good  
life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life,  
it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I  
like it very well; but in respect that it is  
private, it is a very vile life_. **(3)" **Another voice spoke. Lizzie's eyes lit up at the verse of her favourite play-write.  
"Perhaps Shakespeare's words are to be taken into better consideration when trying to define where one belongs?" Darcy said. Lizzie laughed and nodded enthusiastically.  
"Why of course. Shakespeare was certainly on to something but I think he also meant that people should certainly try to fit in before they arrange an opinion of the matter. Touchstone had of course been in the Forest of Arden long before he formed his opinion. Our delightful friend on the other hand has yet to be in Meryton a week," Lizzie argued and Darcy nodded thoughtfully, thumb strumming his cleanly shaven chin slowly.  
"Certainly. But perhaps we should allow Caroline a chance to make up her mind," Darcy said softly. Lizzie's eyes sparked and a frown formed on her brow, drawing her dark eyebrows closer together. Darcy baffled her considerably. So far in their extremely short acquaintance she was never sure whether he was making fun of her, laughing with her or silently condemning her. His words about Caroline had made her feel like he was condemning her but the amusement that Lizzie thought she found in those impossibly blue eyes made her reconsider the accusation entirely.  
"Does your friend always throw parties this big?" Darcy asked after a strained, calculating silence. Lizzie nodded, absently twirling a dark curl around her finger.  
"I've always wondered what her obsession with strobe lights is," Lizzie commented after another awkward bout of silence between the two. Inside Lizzie was silently harassing her sister to return with Charlie, hoping to heavens that her telecommunication would get through without interference.  
Darcy hadn't responded to her comment but was rapidly typing away at his phone. Lizzie raised an eyebrow coyly.  
"You know people might have epilepsy. Imagine what it would be like to have epilepsy. Some times I wish I could have it just for a day to see what it's like but then I remembered the poor old coote who used to live next door and I just feel sad for them all," Lizzie sighed, watching out of the corner of her eye at the tall man seated as far from her as possible on the bench, fingers smoothly flying over the shining screen.  
Darcy didn't reply again but abruptly stood from the chair, pushing it back slightly in the process and striding away into the thronging masses of people. His dark hair and designer jeans were faster away from her than a galloping horse. Lizzie snorted in discern. Arrogant man.  
"Well, Lizzie, whatever did you do to Will Darcy?" Charlotte asked with a hiccup that sloshed her drink over the edge and onto the expensive wooden floor.  
"I have no idea. I'm beginning to believe he's a conceited city-"  
"Lizzie!" Jane gushed, cutting off the insult forming around Lizzie's taught lips.  
"Lizzie, I've just been having the most amazing time. Charlie is just the most charming man," Jane blushed and spoke with her eyes to her feet. Lizzie and Charlotte exchanged amused glances before guiding the blushing blonde to the punch table.  
"Oh, Jane, Elizabeth, Charlotte. Have you seen William?" Caroline gripped Lizzie's arm tightly, nails digging into her soft skin as though Lizzie was the reason for her missing Darcy.  
"He left a few minutes ago. He didn't say why," Lizzie said gritting her teeth and yanking her arm away from the vile woman. Caroline sniffed before spinning on her heel and storming away, those icy eyes brewing into a snow storm.  
"She's such an awful snob," Lizzie snapped, eyeing the red marks on her arm. Charlotte giggled uncontrollably, the effects of the alcohol finally seeping into her brain. Jane's jaw dropped and her eyes nearly popped from her skull.  
"Lizzie! She is simply worried for her friend. She didn't mean to hurt your arm and her brother is so delightfully nice it's impossible for his sister to be so horrid," Jane admonished, daintily taking a sip of her punch, little finger in the air as if sipping tea.  
Lizzie rolled her eyes and crushed her empty plastic cup in her palms. Even Jane was stretching it this time. Lizzie could see the self-obsession and hate in the woman's eyes and knew that she had intentionally dug those nails a little deeper than necessary. Only she didn't know why. What had she done this time?  
"Ladies! I'm sorry Darcy left so soon. Urgent matters called I'm afraid," Charlie said apologetically, joining the group of women he had already deemed his friends. Especially Jane Bennet. But Lizzie's eyes narrowed at Charlie's apology. Urgent matters or simply a bout of 'uncivilized, uneducated country nobodies'?  
"Not a trouble, Darcy," Charlotte hiccupped. Her face puckered for a moment and her lips formed an 'o' shape before patting his shoulder. "I mean Charles Bingley. Not a trouble, Charles Bingley. Charles Bingley have you seen the fairies?" Charlotte asked pointing outside the frosty window that offered a view of the dancing snow. All three faces frowned out the window until Lizzie laughed gleefully.  
"Charlotte means the fairy lights," she explained, pointing to the lights strung from the roof in loops and then wrapped in perfect spaces of three inches around the marble pole at the edge of the balcony.  
"They're delightful! How many drinks exactly have you had?" Charlie asked hesitantly, his eyes wandering from her bloodshot eyes to the cup in her hand.  
"Not enough!" Charlotte announced and marched back to the bar.  
"She certainly does like a party," Charlie commented after the three watched in amusement at Charlottes teetering steps and uncontrollable giggles.  
"You have no idea," Lizzie smirked and threw her crumpled cup into a waste basket.  
"Oooohhh! Nice shot! Let me try."  
Lizzie believed Charlie and her where going to be _very_ good friends.

**A/N: If you love poetry, like me, and have a particular poem you would like me to use, just hit me up with it and I'll work it in some how! This is going to be so much fun!**

**X Gracie-Joy X**

1. Extract from 'Journey of the Magi' - T.S Eliot.  
2. Extract from 'Romance in the Moonlight' – Nicole Buckland  
3. Extract from 'As You Like it' Act 3 Scene 2 – Shakespeare


	2. Chapter 2

**Secrets**

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot**

"He didn't even say 'goodbye', Jane! You can't defend him forever you know. It's simply rude," Lizzie exclaimed, angrily stuffed a bag of oranges into the trolley. Jane pursed her lips and pushed back a lock of golden hair that refused to sit behind her ears. The more Lizzie thought about the way he had disappeared into the crowd, the more the situation threatened to twist a nerve into a shocking bout of agony. 

"It could have been an emergency. You heard Charlie," Jane repeated. There was one thing about Lizzie that frustrated Jane the most and that was her dominating determination to out stubborn all legitimate circumstances just to rationalize her love of drama. Jane often contributed her sister's exuberance for drama to her rapt attention for books. She was majoring in English literature at University after all. Of course she loved an interesting twist of plot. At least that's what Jane convinced herself about Lizzie's erratic ranting. 

"Jane, he could have said so!" Lizzie insisted and pushed the trolley towards a line at the check out at an awkward angle due to its bent wheels. 

"It could have been private, Lizzie," Jane stated, yet again. And yet again Lizzie futilely refused to acknowledge the possibility. 

"He still could have said 'goodbye', it's not that hard. You say it now," Lizzie said, her eyes bright from the mystery of William Darcy and perhaps a smidgen of anger. 

"Lizzie, really…" 

"_Jane_," Lizzie insisted. Jane sighed and smiled pleasantly at Lizzie. 

"Goodbye, Lizzie," she said sweetly. 

"Exactly!" Lizzie exclaimed throwing her hands wildly in the air, her purpose achieved. "That didn't take a second. And oh, Jane, what about when he told me off for politely redirecting Caroline's point of view, which she entirely misinterpreted. Oh and when he didn't offer to walk with us to Charlotte's. Infuriating man," she argued with determination, her words hissing out of her mouth so no one else could hear over the loud chatter of the supermarket. 

"I'm sure he has a reasonable answer for everything. Now hurry up and load the food, we'll be late to meet Charlotte," Jane urged and began to stack their full trolley onto the check out.  
Lizzie only settled for a 'humph' and kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. Four days after Charlotte's party and still she could not seem to keep Darcy from her mind. He puzzled her to no ends and she had always thought herself an excellent judge of character. Couldn't he have just said 'goodbye'? She would have been satisfied then to accept he was simply shy. 

"Hurry Lizzie," Jane called to her younger sister with dark wild hair falling from the bun at the top of her head. Lizzie always looked the slightest bit lopsided no matter how hard she tried. She always remembered the teasing voice, a constant niggle in the back of her mind, the one that said '_Lizzie, lizzie, looks like a tizzy_'. To be honest she had had no idea what a 'tizzy' even meant at first. And of course once her trusty dictionary pointed out that 'tizzy' meant a state of nervousness or excitement, she'd made it clear to the boy with the red hair, the bold freckles and pale skin that his sentence did not make perfect sense. She then had sent an enthusiastic swing at his nose and sent _him_ on his way in a tizzy. But the voice still echoed out to her in moments of critical examination. 

Lizzie drove a beetle. Or she liked to think she drove a beetle, in reality _Jane_ drove the tiny green Volkswagen Beetle because she was terrified Lizzie would accidently kill someone one day.  
The green car hummed into a parking lot at the ice cream parlour. The ice cream parlour was a place of peace and tranquility to Lizzie. She often described it as 'the yin to her yang', or 'the homecoming room of Ruby Sullivan.' Ruby Sullivan of course being that girl who wore overalls, had practically spent her whole life with braces, a large smattering of freckles, glasses the thickness of coke bottle lids and greasy hair that was pulled back tightly into either a braid or pigtails.  
In other words the ice cream parlour was a quiet, burnt out, low key place on the lower side of Meryton. The business rarely held many customers in winter but somehow still managed to stay open in its low socio-economic surroundings. 

"Finally. I was beginning to think you'd drowned in the oranges," Charlotte teased as the two sisters stepped on to the frosty sidewalk. 

"Char, you know Pa's like a kid in a candy store with his oranges. He has to have only the best ones there. Perfectly round, roughly an eight-centimeter diameter, and a large navel. You can't deny a dying man's request!" Lizzie laughed lightheartedly. She shoved her shoulder roughly with practiced ease against the creaking, heavy glass door but stumbled when it swung easier than she expected. A brief thought of 'hinge grease' ran through her mind before she almost collided with a tall girl of about sixteen or seventeen with hair that couldn't decide whether to be mousy brown or blonde, fair skin and grey eyes. 

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," the girl murmured softly, clutched her takeaway container of cookies and cream ice cream and dashed out into the cold, tugging her dark coat tighter around her. 

"Sorry!" Lizzie yelled out and the girl only had time to glance over her shoulder with a small, hesitant smile before disappearing around the corner. 

"You really shouldn't have said that you know," Jane said quietly while Charlotte made her order. Lizzie's brow furrowed as she glided her eyes over the freezer, squinting to read the tags. 

"I shouldn't have apologized? Honestly, Jane-" 

"You know what I mean, Lizzie. About Pa," she bit her lip anxiously, the expression that always appeared on her angel face when they spoke of their father's impending doom.  
_"There is another sky,  
Ever serene and fair,  
And there is another sunshine,  
Though it be darkness there_;**(1)**' Lizzie said quietly, pulling her turquoise purse from her bag. It clashed horribly with her bright red coat, but Lizzie tried to convince herself that it was all part of the Christmas spirit. It almost worked. 

"You know too much poetry," Jane sighed. She pushed her sunglasses further back in her hair and scrutinized the greasy hand prints that had smudged the glass on the freezer. 

"I was simply saying, we don't need to dwell on stormy skies. Why wallow in our own self pity when it will get us nowhere," Lizzie smiled and squeezed her sisters arm before ordering her usual large boysenberry swirl. 

"Charlotte, what on earth is in that?" Lizzie scrunched up her nose and peered into the container that held a bright pink coloured ice cream. She could feel the cold seeping into her and pulled away, wriggling her button nose as she went. 

"Pomegranate flavour. It's divine. I would quit alcohol for this," she rolled her eyes heavenward as if praising God for the miracle of pomegranate flavoured icecream. 

"Butter Pecan, Jane? Really?" Charlotte teased as the blonde slipped into a booth beside Lizzie. 

"You know I'm not adventurous," Jane mumbled with a blush. In truth Jane had never even climbed a tree. 'Not adventurous' was not an apt enough description for Jane Bennet. 

"Alright, fill us in. What have you learnt about our new neighbours?" Lizzie grinned around a spoonful of ice cream and wiggled closer against the table in anticipation. Though Jane would never openly condone gossiping about their friends, her ear certainly twitched to know more about a certain gentleman. 

"Well, not much really. It's all kind of mysterious and blasé but I did find out that Bingley is in town because he needed a retreat from his parents. Charlie and Caroline's parents are astronomically rich, own some corporate business that puts the entire country to shame and left them all on their own while they cross oceans and work their miracles. Thing is, no one really knows why big-shot-Bingley, who practically owns in the lawyer department, decided to come to Meryton of all places where he'd be refereeing disputes about the other guys fence for a living-" 

"Charlotte," Jane muttered, interrupting her rant and squirming uncomfortably. Charlotte tilted her head to the side and scooped in a mouthful of ice cream. 

"Maybe you shouldn't say things like that. Everyone has their reasons…" 

"And that's exactly what we're trying to figure out!" Lizzie nudged Jane a little, only slightly guilty for Charlotte's blunt approach to other people's lives and tried to ignore the jab of her own guilt at her unusual prying. She couldn't put her finger on why these people mattered to her so much. Charlotte dropped her ice cream container and gripped Jane's gloved hands in her own. 

"You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, please forgive my lack of tact," she smiled. Jane flushed but nodded in consent to the apology. 

"And what of this Darcy fellow? What's he doing here? He certainly didn't just walk out of the woods," Lizzie prodded the conversation back into more interesting territory. 

"Right. See the thing is, I have nothing on him. All I know is that Bingley already owned a house on upper side Meryton. Darcy just bought the Miller's old place, had it renovated, filled out and within a week he moved in. Rumours have it that he has a dead body in the cellar…" Charlotte and Lizzy stifled a giggle at the look of horror on Jane's face. "But I'm pretty sure that's what they are. Just rumours. He's not actually an ex-murderer finally coming out of hiding in this backwashed town of England." 

"We aren't backwashed," Jane sighed at the same time Lizzy's brow furrowed. 

"How do you suppose someone becomes an ex-murderer? You can't un-murder someone. That's completely illogical." 

"And completely irrelevant. Hello, Benneteers! We have two hunks of men walking around town and nobody knows a thing about them. Aren't you in the slightest bit curious?" Charlotte waved her spoon around dramatically and Lizzie did all she could not to roll her eyes. And successfully failed. 

"Lizzie thinks that Darcy is a pri-" Jane clamped her mouth closed, eyes wide at the word that almost slipped from her tongue. "She doesn't like him," she sniffed with as much dignity as she could muster. 

"Well he is…enigmatic," Lizzie muttered trying to draw attention away from Jane's embarrassment. 

"He is, dark, handsome _and_ enigmatic. That's just plain attractive," Charlotte snickered. Lizzie rolled her eyes and began to chew on her thumb. Charlotte's obsession with anything male that breathed had long since ceased to amuse and she only smiled out of habit. 

"For the love of god, Lizzie. Why are we in an ice cream parlous in the middle of winter. This is beyond ridiculous," Charlotte complained and slid out from the booth. 

"I'm heading home. I'll see you two around," she said, popped a kiss on Lizzie's head and dramatically made her exit. 

"Let's get going. I want to see Pa," Lizzie said and slid out with Jane following behind.  
'Pa' had always been one of Lizzy's favourite people in the world. He was calm, confident, witty and intelligent. Most of those qualities, which she possessed. He seemed to be that lantern to her dark and troublesome mind when things were clouded and foggy.  
It was only when she stepped into that dark study that smelt of tea-leaves and the old pages of books did her mind begin to slow down and her blood begin to circulate at a more human rate. 

"Lizzie, I was wondering when you would make yourself appear in here," her father said in amusement, his eyes flickering up from the paper's before him. Formerly an English Literature professor he still found it difficult not to immerse himself in papers and books that had yet to be discovered by the modern world. 

"I brought oranges! Eight centre meter diameter with large navels. Your favourite," Lizzie grinned and sat the bag awkwardly across his orderly desk. 

"I always knew you were my favourite daughter. Just don't tell Jane that. It will break her dear little heart," he chuckled and picked up an orange from the bag and sniffing it. 

"They smell just right, thank you. Now what ails you? You've got that amusing frown on your face again," he commented, barely lifting his eyes from the paper's he pulled back up. Lizzie flopped down, her legs crossed in the air over the arm of the chair. 

"Well, I don't know. It shouldn't really be anything but you heard about our new neighbours? No one knows a thing about them. Charlotte thinks that William Darcy is an ex-murder," she sighed thoughtfully, tugging at a loose curl. 

"Once a murderer always a murderer," Mr. Bennet said briefly, his pen scrawling hurriedly across a paper. 

"That's what I thought," she mused and let her thoughts whirl rapidly around her mind.  
If Mr. Darcy refused to come out of his shell then she would just have to make him come out anyway. He _had_ to be hiding something. No one was that rude and arrogant for absolutely no reason. And he _had_ of course tried to be civil when they spoke. Maybe he hadn't been reprimanding her about Caroline. But then she would be going against all she believed in according to her philosophy about men that they really don't matter, they're simply a necessity of the continuation of life and an added bonus. She couldn't possibly care that much about this man and what secrets he was hiding and yet...  
And yet she could imagine the advantages of pursing her inquisition of Darcy and spin them into a plotting tale of literature. Yes. That was exactly the reason to discover the secrets behind those incredibly blue eyes of William Darcy.  
She needed to plan, She needed to plot. She needed a pen. 

"Thanks, Pa. You're always so helpful," she exclaimed, bounding out of her chair and swinging wildly out of the study.  
Mr. Bennet only pressed his lips together in silent laughter, his head shaking in admiration of her exuberant spirit.

**A/N:**

Excerpt from 'There is another sky' – Emily Dickinson


	3. Chapter 3

**Secrets**

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: Thank you all to those who have reviewed, favourited and followed, it means a lot.**

**Also just a quick note, for some reason I've been spelling Lizzy's name 'Lizzie'. I'm changing it back to the traditional 'Lizzy' so if there's any slip ups just let me know. Thank you!**

When Lizzy was a small child, her dark locks falling over her face, a smudge of hot chocolate caught on the upper corner of her lip and her porcelain skin smattered with freckles, she was never found without a small notebook and some form of writing utensil. She was often spotted wandering the bustling streets a few feet behind her family, green eyes only flickering up occasionally to assure herself she hadn't lost sight of her mother's large purple hat or her father's brown over coat.

Her pen would never stop squiggling. Sometimes it would hesitate, a small divot would appear between her eyes, a small white hand would reach up and tug her red beanie further down her head before shooting off again in rapid strokes. People would smile at the small girl with a vivid imagination for things that adults could rarely see or even begin to understand.

Once more Lizzy was scribbling furiously on a small notebook, attempting to balance her Styrofoam cup of coffee in her gloved hands at the same time through the Meryton square. 

"Jane, would breaking and entering be taking it too far? How about kidnapping and hanging them by their toes?" Lizzy suddenly questioned, her eyes creased in contemplation, her pen beginning to tap on her chin. 

"Oh, Lizzy, I thought you were making notes for your major work. You need to leave poor Mr. Darcy alone. You hardly know the man," Jane smiled gently before taking a sip of her hot tea. Lizzy sighed and made an exaggerated groan as she scratched furiously out a note she'd made.

"I was. I have this marvelous idea but I keep getting distracted by all this, this noise!" she muttered and frowned, observing her surroundings. Meryton's square had grown considerably. Café's dotted a path around the edges; stalls of all sorts littered the bricked pathway. It was still a beautiful town square, or so Lizzy thought with its snow draped gardens with fairy lights lighting the dark, along with old styled streetlights and lanterns. And the night made it more stunning. Although the frosty night of New Years Eve hadn't brought the dancing snow flakes as the Bennet sisters had wished, she was still in awe of the frosty clouds of steam whirling around the night air from the mouths of excited children, the laughs of pretty women and handsome men along with the aroma of coffee, spiced teas and the smoke that resulted from torches and sparklers being whirled around by street performers.

"You should just enjoy the night, Lizzie. It's the last day of this year before everything is new and squeaky clean. Don't start anything you might come to regret," Jane warned. Lizzie laughed and tipped her head to examine a man juggling eight coloured balls more closely.

"Jane, I'm just curious. I'm not obsessed with anything or anyone, I just like knowing things and imagine; what if he really is an ex murderer, that would make-"

"Who's an ex-murderer?" a cheerful voice cut off her sentence. Lizzy had the satisfaction of seeing a blush flood over Jane's cheeks before she met the eyes of Charles Bingley.

"A character in my book," Lizzy offered easily. It wasn't a complete lie, Lizzy reasoned. Charlie laughed at her, his eyes continually flickering to Jane.

"You're writing a book?" A deeper voice asked. Darcy. Lizzy's breathing haltered and she prayed he hadn't heard any more of Jane and her discussion.

"Yes. It's going to be a part of my major work for University," she explained. She wanted to avoid the way his hair sat under his dark coloured beanie but she found her eyes wouldn't obey her commands.

"I hope we're not intruding, by the way. Darcy and I were trying to find my sister who disappeared when she saw a clown. She finds them terrifying," Charlie smirked and scrubbed a hand through his thick red hair. Lizzy watched with interest as a small smirk cross Darcy's face as well. She fought the urge to scrawl down a note that Darcy didn't appear as attached to Caroline as originally thought.

"A psychopathic clown, ex-murderer. Marvelous," Lizzy breathed. Only Darcy heard her and his lips twitched in that same way they had when he'd collided with her on the street. Lizzy pulled down her red beret with a small tug before turning back to Jane and Charlie.

"Oh your poor sister. And Lizzy and I were just in search of our own family. Mamma will want to be getting home soon and we wanted to say goodbye but we would love for you to join us this evening, wouldn't we, Lizzy? Charlie, William and Caroline?" Jane smiled encouragingly with her large blue eyes at Charlie and Lizzy was certain he was about to fall flat on his face. She let out a snort before catching her self and attempting to cover it with a cough.

"We'd love to!" she squeaked. Charlie's face lit into a grin and he tapped Darcy with the back of his hand twice.

"How about it, Darce? Fancy a stroll through the square with these lovely ladies?"

Lizzy watched the quiet mans' expression. His hands were safely tucked in the pockets of his dark washed blue jeans, his black hooded jumper with a Nike symbol across it hung around his body and when he shrugged she could see his shoulders stretching the fabric comfortably.  
"I could handle a walk till the clock strikes," he agreed. Lizzy pulled out her notebook and quickly jotted down a note, this time the urge to great. 'He can be agreeable if he wants. He must choose not to?' Her coffee almost slopped over the edge and Darcy's hand caught the tipping cup, bringing his warm body closer to her small one. Lizzy slammed her notebook shut almost causing more shockwaves of the hot liquid to land on Darcy's clothing, instead splattering onto the icy ground.

"I've got it," Lizzy snapped, stepping quickly away from the tall man. His presence felt almost imposing and she hurriedly jiggled her notebook into her bag.

"Of course. I didn't mean to step inside your space," Darcy murmured, his blur eyes watching her with intensity. Lizzy almost felt a pang of guilt at her rudeness but halted it as Darcy gestured down the path. Jane and Charlie had already started without them.

"Oh, Jane," Lizzy scolded under her breath. She hung onto her beret and walked quickly to catch up. She didn't want to be left alone with the tall and handsome Mr. Darcy. But then…she turned and waited for Darcy who was still a few meter's behind, leisurely taking his time as his feet crunched through the melting snow.

"What brings you to Meryton, Darcy? And don't say the charming company," Lizzy asked when he caught up. He let out a low chuckle before clearing his throat.

"Charlie's here of course. On holidays," he answered simply. It sounded easy enough but why would he go through the trouble of furnishing a whole house when he could very well stay with his friend?

" Oh," Lizzy frowned and sipped her coffee, unsure how to proceed.

"Do you enjoy university?" Darcy asked after a long pause. His eyes darted everywhere but at the girl by his side, finding something else to occupy his eyes with.

"I do. Immensely," she answered. She wouldn't mention the struggle it was to pay for her tuition or the heart break it was causing her to see her father trying to hang on to see her graduation in two years time or the head ache's that wrought from her mother arguing that she would be better off looking after her father at home and finding a husband to provide for her. No, she wouldn't tell him how gravely low her life was becoming.  
"_T__WELVE o'clock. _

_Along the reaches of the street _

_Held in a lunar synthesis, _

_Whispering lunar incantations _

_Dissolve the floors of memory _

_And all its clear relations, _

_Its divisions and precisions, _

_Every street lamp that I pass _

_Beats like a fatalistic drum, _

_And through the spaces of the dark _

_Midnight shakes the memory _

_As a madman shakes a dead geranium,__**(1)**__" _Lizzy murmured. She paused in her steps, her eyes drawn to a bench along the path and the image of a small girl in a dark green coat and curly hair pulled high on her head in a ponytail. Beside her sat an older man. He was in his early thirties and both the girl and the man held the same wide green eyes and the same dark hair and the same shape of the mouth. Both of them held in their hands a book, his larger than hers, the girl often glancing up to make sure the man beside her hadn't left. He looked at her with all the adoration a father could muster for his little girl.

"Lizzy?" a deep voice asked hesitantly. 

"Oh…"Lizzy blushed and quickened her steps to cover her embarrassment.

"T.s. Eliot is an excellent poet but he rarely believed in happiness. Rhapsody on a Windy Night in particular," Darcy said smiling at her, gently prodding her to tell of her troubles. Lizzy frowned in confusion at the man.

"You know T.s. Eliot well?" Lizzy asked slowly. Darcy nodded but didn't answer. They continued to walk in a silence that wasn't exactly easy. Lizzy firmly trained her eyes on her sister's back as she weaved through crowds of people.

"You have a lot of memories in this square?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, I-" She blinked in surprise at the shrill sound of a mobile phone. Darcy pulled the phone from his pocket and immediately drew away from her, leaving her standing alone in the cold.

"Hello?" she heard him answer in a casual voice. "Yes," he said again and before she recognised what was happening, he was gone. She lost him in the sea of coloured beanies and cold night air.

"Dammit, Lizzy," she muttered to herself and pinched herself on the cheek in anger. She'd almost believed he was okay. He hadn't said goodbye again. How many emergencies could one guy have? No, he must have a fleet of dead bodies in his cellar.

She pulled out her phone and tapped to Charlotte. _I think you're right. He probably has a whole pile of dead bodies in his cellar_.

"Darcy left," Lizzy announced when she caught up to her sister. Jane frowned and Charlie looked around, avoiding her gaze.

"Yes, he just sent me a text, sorry about that. He's a good fellow though, Lizzy," Charlie said. He seemed eager to impress a good opinion of his friend on her.

"Yeah, hey what are your opinions on saying 'goodbye'. What do you say to what type of friend?" Lizzy questioned. Charlie laughed and Jane, looked around nervously.

"Well, I suppose if you're best friends a hug would suffice, a good friend would thank you for spending the time to catch up and say a simple 'goodbye' and a stranger would say 'It was lovely meeting you, have a nice day," Charlie answered easily.

"What about an acquaintance? You're not really good friends but you've met before?" Lizzy prodded.

"Well Darcy says, just treat them like a good friend and they'll eventually become that. I like the approach of treating them like a best friend and then gradually tone it down when you get to know them," he chuckled. Lizzy shot a look at Jane before agreeing with Charlie.

"That seems reasonable. Oh, is that fairy floss? Jane, can we get some?" Lizzy asked.

"Let me get some, I'll be right back," Charlie offered.

"Well isn't he dashing," Lizzy nudged Jane.

"Oh, Lizzy, stop it. Did William not say goodbye again?" She asked with those angelic eyes, tugging her white scarf closer to her neck.

"Yeah. I don't understand it. Maybe he just doesn't like me. We were talking before, well kind of, and I thought maybe you were right but then he answered his phone and just walked off again. He could have waved, he knew I was watching. He hung up and left. Does he think so little of me? I wasn't even at a party where I know everybody. I was alone in town," she explained, not entirely sure why it injured her so much that he would do that to her. She examined the fairy lights above their heads.

"Well, no matter. Maybe he…"

"No, Jane. There's no excuse this time. Darcy is hiding something. You need to ask Charlie, Jane. Why can't they all be like that?" she muttered darkly, both their eyes wandering back to the grinning face of Charles Bingley.

"He is something, isn't he," Jane commented dreamily. Lizzy stifled a giggled and dramatically sighed, the back of her hand pressed against her forehead and she leant back as though swooning.

"Lizzy!" Jane squeaked and poked her sister.

"I really like him, Lizzy. We text all the time and it seems almost every moment I'm in the street he happens to be too and he stops and talks to me and he makes me laugh. He's perfect," she sighed happily. Lizzy hugged her sister around the waist tightly.

"Of course he is. Perfectly perfect for the perfect girl. You know, Mamma will be so pleased. Have they left yet?" Lizzy asked. Jane nodded.  
"Mamma didn't want to wait for us."  
Lizzy made a non-committal sound but said nothing more.  
"Jane! Elizabeth!"

"Hello, Caroline," Jane smiled sincerely. Lizzy tried her best not to gag at the orange masked woman with fake lashes longer than a dolls.

"Do you smell like a bagel?" Lizzy asked, her nose scrunching up as her scent hit her.

"Oh isn't it divine? It's 'French Bagel' perfume delivered straight from Paris. Just the other day Will was telling me the thing he missed about France where their breads and so I ordered this to remind him of it," Caroline smiled toothily. Lizzy controlled the mix of mortification and laughter from spilling onto her face and forced a smile.  
"Grand," she agreed.

"Have you seen my brother and Will? They must have become lost after that dreadful clown burst out from behind a curtain. It was truly terrifying," Carline explained.

"I would imagine so. Charlie is just kindly getting some fairy floss for Lizzy," Jane smiled gently. A look of horror passed over her face and she looked Lizzy up and down for several moments.

"Imagine what that will do to your figure," she gasped. Lizzy only just managed to control the fist that she wanted to fling at Caroline's face. It was going to be a long night.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! Thoughts and comments welcome if you have the time (:**


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